


Love is Blind

by mithrel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-27
Updated: 2009-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is blinded by a sorcerer, and Merlin has to find a way to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is Blind

Merlin rode back to Camelot, Arthur slumped in front of him on the horse. Yet another sorcerer had tried to kill the Crown Prince, and this time Merlin hadn’t been able to keep him from hitting Arthur with some sort of spell.

He’d killed the sorcerer with his own magic, dropping him without a mark on him, then run to Arthur.

Arthur was unconscious, but he was alive, and Merlin prayed that nothing serious had happened.

As he rode in the gates, guards ran out to take Arthur from him.

“What happened?” one demanded.

“A sorcerer,” Merlin replied, dismounting. “He needs Gaius.”

Two of the guards slung Arthur’s arms over their shoulders and carried him toward the physician’s quarters, Merlin following anxiously.

“Put him on the bed,” Gaius directed the guards, when they stumbled in. “What happened?”

As they laid Arthur down on Gaius’ cot, Merlin explained. “There was a sorcerer. He hit him with some sort of spell and knocked him out.”

“I see. Well I can look at him, but we’ll have to wait until he awakens to make certain nothing’s wrong.”

***

Gaius had finished his examination and pronounced Arthur unharmed, but Merlin still waited restlessly next to the cot for him to wake up.

Uther showed up not long after he’d brought Arthur in. “What happened?”

“A sorcerer, your majesty,” Gaius said, as Merlin tried to turn invisible without actually turning invisible.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“As far as I can tell, nothing, sire. He seems to be in perfect health, apart from the unconsciousness. However we’ll need to wait until he wakes up to know for certain.”

“Alert me the moment he regains consciousness,” Uther commanded, then swept out. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

About a half hour after that Arthur groaned and opened his eyes. They were glassy and unfocussed.

“Are you alright, sire?” Gaius asked, approaching the bed.

Arthur turned toward him. “Gaius?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Gaius I…I can’t see.” The words were calm, but Merlin could see how Arthur’s fists were clenched in the bedclothes.

“What do you mean you can’t see?” Merlin yelped.

Arthur jumped, then glared in his general direction. “I mean I’ve been rendered blind, Merlin, that should be obvious even to your limited intellect!”

“The sorcerer!” Merlin said, as Gaius fetched a lantern. “The spell must have blinded him!”

“Apparently.” Gaius took hold of Arthur’s chin and held up the lantern, looking into his eyes. “Yes, this is most definitely caused by the spell. There’s nothing physically wrong with his eyes.” He turned his attention to Arthur again. “And you say you can’t see anything? Motion, shadows, nothing?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nothing,” he said tightly.

Merlin saw how he was struggling to control his fear and put a hand on his arm. Arthur shot him a look that was a cross between irritated and grateful. Or rather, focussed the look on a point about three inches to his left.

“But Gaius, I can’t be blind! You can fix this, can’t you?”

“I don’t know, sire. I can try, but as I said, there’s nothing wrong with your eyes. We may merely have to hope the spell wears off.” Gaius gave Merlin a significant look, but Merlin waved him off, more concerned about Arthur. _Of course I’m not going to leave Arthur like this!_

“Will it…wear off?” Arthur asked, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. Merlin put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I don’t know, sire,” Gaius repeated. He paused, then continued, “The King wished to be notified when you woke.”

“No!” Arthur blurted frantically. “I…I don’t want him to see me like this!”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Merlin protested.

“I _know_ that Merlin!” Arthur snapped, but Merlin knew full well he was blaming himself. _I can’t think of a worse punishment for Arthur. Blind, he can’t hunt, can’t train with the knights, can’t lead men into battle…can’t be_ king. _And with Uther’s attitude about weakness I’m not surprised that Arthur didn’t want to see him._

“I’ll go tell the King you’ve woken,” Gaius said. “Stay with him.”

Merlin shot Gaius a look he’d learned from Arthur, one that said, _You’re being a complete idiot and stating things that should be obvious._ He wasn’t going to leave Arthur like this.

“He’ll want to see me,” Arthur said gloomily, after Gaius had gone. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t want him to know.”

“It wasn’t your fault!” Merlin repeated.

“It doesn’t matter. His only son and heir to the throne of Camelot got himself blinded, and now he’s useless.”

“You’re not useless!” Merlin said without thinking.

“Oh really? And how exactly would I go to war like this, or conduct a survey of the kingdom, or anything else for that matter?”

Since Merlin had been thinking much the same thing, he didn’t answer, but said instead, “Gaius will find a way to fix this, or else the spell will wear off on its own.”

Just then Gaius returned. “I told Uther that Arthur’s awake, but while there’s nothing physically wrong with him, he needs rest and it’s better he’s left alone.”

“You lied to the king?” Merlin exclaimed.

Gaius raised an eyebrow in feigned shock. “Of course not, Merlin. Everything I said was absolute truth.”

Arthur snorted. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

“How are we going to get him back to his chambers?” Merlin asked suddenly. “If nothing’s wrong with him, I can’t very well be seen leading him around.”

“I’ve gone blind. Not deaf. I can hear you talking about me.” Arthur complained.

“Sorry.” He would have to be more careful. _Arthur must feel bad enough without us making it worse._

Gaius sighed. “We’ll have to wait until after dark and hope no one sees.”

***

Merlin managed to get Arthur back to his chambers without anyone seeing, although when one of the laundresses was in the corridor they needed to go down, he’d had to use a concealing spell, thankful that he didn’t need to actually say more familiar spells aloud.

He’d got Arthur ready for bed without comment, but as he went to leave Arthur stopped him.

“Merlin?”

“Yes?” he said, looking over his shoulder. Arthur looked so lost and vulnerable Merlin wanted to kill the sorcerer again, slowly this time.

“You’ll come back?”

Something twisted inside him. “Of course. First thing in the morning,” he replied, glad Arthur couldn’t see his expression.

Arthur relaxed. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled softly. “Sleep well.”

***

Over the next few days, Merlin stayed in Arthur’s rooms as much as possible. He was getting tired, since, blind or not, Arthur kept him busy all day, and there was no time to look for a counterspell until after Arthur had dismissed him for the night.

Arthur was subdued, something Merlin was not used to from him. He gave him orders to bring him his meals, or polish the armour that had been brought up, but he spent most of his time at the window, pretending to look out.

Arthur didn’t talk much, but every so often he’d look over and ask, “Are you there?”

Merlin tried to be patient with him, but after the fourth time this happened he snapped, “ _Yes!_ I haven’t gone anywhere, Arthur, I’d tell you if I was going to!”

Arthur winced slightly. “I’m sorry…it’s just I…” He didn’t continue, shaking his head angrily.

Merlin sighed. “No, don’t apologise. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know this can’t be easy.”

Arthur turned away from the sympathy in his voice. He might be acting more vulnerable, but he was still Arthur, hating weakness and not wanting to be reminded of it.

Merlin sighed again, put down the tunic he’d been hemming, and walked over to Arthur. “It won’t be forever. The spell will wear off, or else Gaius will figure out how to fix it.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Arthur demanded. “What if I’m like this forever?”

“You won’t be! I _won’t_ let that happen!”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, and Merlin realised what he’d said. “I’ve…been helping Gaius research a cure.”

“Ah.” But he still looked slightly suspicious.

***

After that Arthur no longer asked whether Merlin was still in the room, and Merlin didn’t talk any more than necessary. But whenever Arthur started looking particularly tense, Merlin would walk past where he was sitting and brush against him, or put a hand on his shoulder and he would relax.

Arthur never commented on it, but he didn’t seem to mind. Merlin would never have dared to do it under normal circumstances; then, whenever he touched Arthur it was strictly professional. But these were not normal circumstances, and Arthur almost seemed to welcome Merlin touching him, although that was probably him projecting. He was careful to keep it innocent, nothing that could be construed as anything other than a comforting gesture. It became harder and harder to do so as the days went by.

***

When Arthur had been in his rooms more than a week, he was obviously growing frustrated. Merlin came in one day to find a chair knocked over, and Arthur attempting to pace.

He knew the general layout of his rooms, but as Merlin came in he blundered into the table and swore.

“What are you doing?”

Arthur jumped, whirled toward his voice and almost fell over.

“Sit _down!_ ” Merlin said, taking his shoulders and pushing him into a chair, then righting the one Arthur had knocked over.

Arthur slumped forward, his head in his hands. “I hate this. I’m useless. I can’t hunt, I can’t train, I can’t even go out, so what good am I?”

“You need something to take your mind off things,” Merlin suggested.

“Like what? I can’t even read…” Arthur trailed off, then asked suddenly, “Tell me a story.”

“What?” Merlin laughed, caught between amusement and incredulity.

“Tell me a story,” Arthur repeated, his expression mulish, daring Merlin to comment.

“OK, OK. Just give me a second to think of one.” There were the stories his mother had told him, of course, but they were hardly the type of stories Arthur would find interesting. After a moment he had an idea.

“Once upon a time there was a king. Now, although this king only wanted what was best for his kingdom,” unlikely, but given who he was talking to it was better to be charitable, “he was blinded by a hatred of magic so all-encompassing that he would allow no magic in his kingdom. It had been that way for twenty years, when the King first began his crusade against sorcerers.”

“Is there a point to this?” Arthur interrupted him.

“Yes, now hush.” Merlin collected his thoughts and continued.

“The king had a son, his only child, and because he was the only child he was somewhat spoilt,” Merlin continued, grinning.

Arthur snorted, but didn’t interrupt.

“It wasn’t necessarily his fault; after all, he’d been given everything he ever wanted, and no one dared to comment if he did something they wouldn’t put up with from anyone else.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Arthur said sarcastically.

“Do you want me to finish this or not?” Merlin demanded.

“Yes, alright, go on.”

“One day, a young man arrived from another kingdom, sent to stay with one of his mother’s friends. As he was new to the city, he didn’t know who the prince was, and so, when he saw him tormenting a servant, he interceded.”

“Well, he would, the idiot.”

Merlin glared at him out of habit, before remembering that Arthur wouldn’t see it. He decided to ignore any further interruptions.

“The prince had him thrown in the dungeon, but the young man’s guardian managed to get the punishment reduced to a day in the stocks.” Arthur smirked.

“When the young man encountered the prince again, he was still behaving like a five-year-old–”

Arthur snorted again.

“And he decided he didn’t want to deal with him ever again,” Merlin finished, still ignoring Arthur. “But his guardian was part of the royal household, and when there was a feast in honour of a visiting dignitary, he took the young man along to help. When it turned out the dignitary was actually a sorceress in disguise, out to kill the prince, the young man saved him without thinking about it, since, however arrogant he was, he didn’t deserve to die.”

“Thank you again.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“The king decided to make the young man the prince’s manservant as a reward. Naturally, neither of them were thrilled about this development…”

“Naturally,” Arthur repeated drily.

“But they made the best of it. And the young man discovered that under the arrogance and emotional constipation, the prince was a good man.” Merlin waited, expecting an interruption, but got none. He shot a glance at Arthur, who was staring fixedly at the wall. Did he want to say anything else? He debated for a few moments, then continued. “The young man was happy to serve him, but also afraid, since the reason his mother had sent him away was because he was a sorcerer.”

At that, Arthur’s head snapped around. Merlin’s voice shook as he continued, knowing he could very well be signing his own death warrant, but unable to bear Arthur not knowing anymore. “If the king found out about his magic, he would be executed, despite the fact that he had used his magic to save the prince, not only at the feast, but several times since. If the prince found out, he would have to tell his father, but almost worse than that was the fact that the prince would hate him, both for lying, and because he had been raised to hate all magic. So he kept silent, so he could continue to help the prince, hating himself more every day for the lie he was living.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, who had not said a word throughout his confession. When he still said nothing, Merlin ventured, “Arthur?”

He jumped slightly, as though he’d forgotten Merlin was there. “You can go, Merlin.”

“Arthur–”

“I said you can go! And be careful about telling those sorts of stories around Camelot–people might think they’re true.”

Merlin sighed. “Yes, sire.”

He slouched back to Gaius’ rooms, his heart heavy. Arthur hadn’t blown up at him, or acted betrayed, deciding instead to ignore what he’d said, but that made him feel worse, not better.

***

Merlin looked even harder for a cure when he got back to Gaius’ chambers, combing through his books for the rest of that day and the whole night. He was glad Arthur couldn’t see, since he would surely comment on how run-down he was looking. As it was, after the fifth time Merlin yawned, he demanded, “Aren’t you sleeping at all?” almost the first thing he’d said to him all day.

“I’ve been helping Gaius look for a cure in the evenings. And…and I’m worried about you.”

An odd look crossed Arthur’s face, a mixture of confusion and discomfort. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he mumbled.

“I know. But I do anyway.”

That wasn’t the only thing he was worried about. Arthur had to know his story wasn’t just a story, but he hadn’t said anything about it, and Merlin was afraid to bring it up for fear of his reaction. Merlin followed his orders without comment, and Arthur didn’t say anything except to give him orders.

Merlin had expected Arthur to go to his father, but then remembered that Uther didn’t know Arthur was blind. It was in his best interest to keep him that way, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t imagine the strain Arthur was under–he acted like he was coping, most of the time, but Merlin could see the constant tension of his shoulders, the barely-repressed anxiety as he sharpened his dagger for hours.

Merlin hadn’t commented on it, hadn’t commented on the fact that Arthur wasn’t going to be _using_ the dagger anytime soon. He just arrived in the morning, bringing Arthur’s breakfast, brought him his meals and did whatever he asked for the rest of the day, then left in the evening.

***

“Have you found anything?” Merlin demanded, as he stumbled through the door.

Gaius shook his head. “No, nothing. And the king is growing impatient.”

Merlin growled, and took two fistfuls of his hair. He wanted nothing so much as to _sleep_ for once; it was getting harder and harder to get up in the mornings, and for the past two days Gaius had had to wake him before he overslept. But he couldn’t afford to. Not until he found a cure. Of course, assuming Arthur went to his father once he was cured, he wasn’t going to be sleeping then either.

He hadn’t told Gaius about his confession. Even under normal circumstances, the fact that he’d told Arthur about his magic…Gaius would glare, and raise his eyebrow, and tell him how stupid he’d been, something Merlin feared more than Uther, and almost as much as the executioner’s axe. Now, when Gaius was under at least as much strain as he was, having to make excuses to an increasingly-frustrated Uther…it didn’t bear thinking about.

He sighed and went to his room, digging the Book out from under his bed. He sat down in the chair, knowing better than to lie down, as tired as he was.

The spells were complicated, the writing hard to read, and he found the words dancing before his eyes, coming into focus only to dissolve into an illegible blur a moment later.

But he kept looking. The spells were in no particular order–a spell to remove a curse of bad luck was directly before one to cure a broken heart. One to bring rain was on the same page as one to cause boils.

But finally he found it. _Spell of Clear Seeing_. He read the entry carefully. It seemed to be what he was looking for; it would negate any spells interfering with sight or perception.

“Gaius, I think I found it!” he exclaimed, rushing into the main room.

Gaius looked up from his own book. “Let me see.”

He scanned the page. “Hm, yes, it seems so. This spell has a physical component. Let me see if I have what you need.”

He rummaged around in his stores and eventually said, “You’re in luck. I have both eyebright and bilberry; you won’t need to gather anything.”

Gaius dug out a pot and filled it with water, dropped the herbs into it and set it on the hearth. The spell was deceptively simple–boil the eyebright and bilberry, then let the water cool and use it on the affected person’s eyes while saying the incantation.

He swayed suddenly, and Gaius moved to support him. “Go to bed, Merlin,” he said kindly. “I’ll take care of this, and you can give it to Arthur in the morning.”

“Thanks, Gaius,” Merlin said. “Goodnight.”

Gaius smiled. “Sleep well.”

And he did, sinking gratefully into the mattress and falling asleep almost instantly.

***

In the morning, he felt slightly less likely to walk into walls, although he was nowhere near rested.

He wandered out to the main room. Gaius was making breakfast and he handed him a bowl. Merlin dug into the simple porridge with relish, suddenly ravenous.

“Here,” Gaius said when he’d finished, handing him a small vial full of clear liquid. “You can take this to Arthur today.”

Merlin took it, then went back in his room to check the incantation one more time. “Wish me luck,” he said, and headed to Arthur’s chambers.

When he got there Arthur was still in bed. He swallowed thickly. This was no time for his imagination to be running away with him; not when Arthur could have him killed if the cure worked.

“Arthur?”

He jumped slightly. “Merlin. I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“Gaius found a cure!” Merlin blurted out.

“He did?” Arthur sat up immediately.

“I just need to put something in your eyes, and the spell should be reversed.”

“Well, do it then!”

Merlin went over to the table and found a spoon. He approached the bed, uncapped the vial and tilted Arthur’s head back, ignoring the warmth of his skin as best he could. Then he poured some of the water onto the spoon and dripped it over Arthur’s eyes.

He made a mess; the water splashed onto Arthur’s cheeks and nose, and he blinked and spluttered, but some of it went into his eyes.

While he was distracted, Merlin whispered “ _Gesiht niwian_ ,” hoping Arthur wouldn’t hear him. Arthur might know he was a sorcerer, but he didn’t want to rub his face in the fact. If Arthur heard him, he didn’t react.

A minute went by, and nothing happened. Merlin sighed. “I guess it didn’t work.” He had no idea what else to try.

Just then Arthur blinked, squinted, and his eyes focussed.

Merlin stared at him. “Arthur?”

An incredulous grin spread over Arthur’s face. “It worked!”

Merlin laughed with relief.

“I never thought I’d be so glad to see your face!”

Merlin coughed. _He didn’t mean that the way it sounded,_ he told himself sternly. _He’s so happy it worked he’s not thinking about what he’s saying._

Arthur got up out of bed. “I’ll need to see my father; he’s probably about ready to kill something by now.”

Merlin’s heart sank. Arthur would talk to his father, tell him Merlin was a sorcerer, and _he_ would be killed. He wasn’t sure what would be worse about that, the fact that he’d be dead or the fact that he wouldn’t be able to help Arthur anymore.

“Help me get dressed,” Arthur commanded, oblivious to Merlin’s thoughts. He did, so worried he didn’t take his usual pleasure in doing it.

When he’d finished, Arthur turned around and took hold of his biceps, holding him in place. Merlin braced himself for what was coming. Now Arthur would confront him about lying to him, about betraying him…

“Thank Gaius for me,” Arthur said.

Merlin blinked. “What?”

“Thank Gaius for me,” Arthur repeated, staring into his eyes. “If it weren’t for him, I’d still be blind. I owe a lot to him.”

Merlin gulped. Arthur might be telling him to thank Gaius, but that wasn’t what he was actually saying. “I’ll tell him,” he said. _So he owes a lot to me. It doesn’t mean he won’t tell his father._

“Stay here,” Arthur told him. “I’ll need you after I talk to him.”

 _Need me to throw me in the dungeons. Why doesn’t he just do it now?_ “Yes, sire.”

Arthur shot him a confused look, then shook his head and left.

***

By the time Arthur got back, Merlin had nearly worn a hole in the floor pacing. As he came in, Merlin asked bleakly, “Where are the guards?”

“Guards?” Arthur repeated. “What are you talking about, Merlin?”

“To _arrest_ me! I’m a _sorcerer!_ ”

“For God’s sake, keep your voice down!” Arthur hissed. “Someone might hear you!”

Merlin felt the beginnings of hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest. “What do you care? The King is going to be here any minute anyway, isn’t he?”

“Oh, for–” Arthur growled, then steered him to sit in a chair and sat across from him. “Let me tell you a story.”

“But–” Merlin protested, and subsided at Arthur’s glare.

“Once there was a prince,” Arthur began, still glaring at him, daring him to interrupt. “He had been trained from a very young age to be a proper king–and part of that training was to fight in not only tournaments, but battles. He was the best in the kingdom; none could match him.”

Merlin wanted to snort at this display of entirely typical arrogance, but didn’t quite dare.

“The prince was bored,” Arthur continued. “No one could offer him a challenge in the ring, so he took to tormenting servants to alleviate the tedium.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but Arthur continued. “Then one day, someone he’d never seen before confronted him about it, and was completely disrespectful. The prince was understandably annoyed, but also intrigued.”

 _What?_ Merlin abruptly started paying attention.

“Even after he found out who the prince was, this man continued to treat him like anyone else. He insulted him, and challenged him to a fight. The prince won, of course, and he began to wonder who this idiot was, who had no sense of propriety.”

Merlin smirked.

“Then the idiot ended up saving his life, and got himself appointed the prince’s manservant as a reward. He turned out to be a rubbish manservant, absolutely no good at the job, but the prince didn’t dismiss him, if for no other reason than he found him entertaining.”

Arthur stopped, and took a deep breath, as if steeling himself to continue. “The prince found that despite the insubordination, his servant was unshakeably loyal. He saved his life again, this time drinking poison meant for him. The prince knew courage when he saw it, so rode out to find a cure, risking his own life and incurring his father’s wrath in the process, for no prince should risk his life for a servant.”

Merlin had a feeling Arthur had been more worried about that than the risk. He’d always been rash, and even now, when he decided he had to do something, he didn’t let things like danger stop him.

“There was something odd about the servant–he was too lucky; there were too many coincidences around him. The prince would have suspected him of magic if the thought hadn’t been so ridiculous.”

Merlin swallowed. _Now we come to it._

Arthur stopped again, for so long Merlin thought he wasn’t going to continue, but then he did. “Magic was illegal in the kingdom, and so the prince buried his suspicions, as the coincidences grew more frequent, for he did not want to believe his servant was something he’d been raised to hate.”

Merlin’s fingernails dug into his palms, and he tried to explain. “Arthur–”

Arthur held up a hand to stop him saying anything. “The prince had always been disturbed at his father’s fanaticism. Now he began questioning the fact that all sorcerers were evil. His servant was a good man, and would certainly never hurt anyone. But he kept silent, because if he confronted his servant and found out for certain, he would have to go to his father.”

Merlin nodded, his gut clenching.

“When the prince found out his servant really was a sorcerer, he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t keep it a secret–that would be treason.” Arthur paused, swallowed. “But he couldn’t turn his servant over to the executioners either, because he’d fallen in love with him, and if he was killed it would destroy him.”

Merlin gaped. _What? He’d fall…He_ can’t _be in_ love _with me!_ He stared at Arthur, impossible hope growing. “You–”

Arthur got up from the table, moving away from him. “I’m not going to tell my father. Your secret’s safe.”

“But–“

“I can dismiss you. If you’d like,” Arthur said hollowly, refusing to look at him.

“No I would _not_ like!” Merlin retorted. “Arthur, why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

Arthur scowled. “And how exactly was I to bring it up, _Mer_ lin? That’s not the type of thing you come out and say! And I wasn’t about to take advantage of my position by–”

“ _‘Take advantage of your position’?!_ ” Merlin cut him off. “Arthur, you know I’d tell you where to stick it if you told me to do something I didn’t like!”

Arthur actually smirked at that. “Yes, unfortunately I do know. But–”

“Shut up,” Merlin said, and got up from the table.

“Merlin, what–” Arthur started, as he strode over to Arthur.

“I told you to _shut up!_ ” Merlin repeated, and kissed him.


End file.
